


Men Who Dreamed

by softmoth



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury, M/M, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8243618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softmoth/pseuds/softmoth
Summary: "There is a godless flame that burns in your heart, Vulpes Inculta," Joshua says. "I know. I have been burned by it myself. The path to redemption is sown in tears, and only from our sorrow can we reap forgiveness. I think that you have felt Zion- I can see it in you."


  "Caesar will order me crucified," Vulpes says, and he is ashamed of the tremble in his voice. "If I cannot kill you, then you must kill me."


   "... Are you going to kill me, Vulpes?"


  The question hangs heavily in the air, and Vulpes can feel the weight of it in his chest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A very old [kink meme response](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4875.html?thread=9342731), for the request: _Somehow Vulpes ends up face-to-face with The Burned Man. Joshua tries to convert him, bring him away from the legion, etc. Sex or no sex, doesn't matter._
> 
> No longer on the meme but reposting here. Apologizes for any weird formatting issues, copy and pasted directly from the former fill and probably typo-ridden. 
> 
> Feedback/concrit is adored.

Cliffs. 

It's the first thought he has, upon reaching the apex of the mountainous pass leaning over Zion valley. There are cliffs, many cliffs, as far as the eye can see. More than he'd ever seen in his lifetime.

Even the jagged terrain of the Mojave, with its looming mesas and towering hillsides, was nothing compared to this.

Vulpes Inculta pauses, scouting out the area. It's well into the afternoon, and from atop the mountain pass the sun beats hot on his face. His helmet shields little of it, and he pushes aside his tinted goggles to wipe a dirty hand across his forehead. 

He lowers himself to the ground and crawls on his stomach towards the edge of the mountain, intending to peer over and below while remaining out of sight. The red dirt beneath his hands is soft, like clay, and he sinks his fingers into the ground as he extends his neck to gaze over the mountain's edge.

Zion. It's... like nothing Vulpes has seen before. 

Foliage bloomed, bizarre and green, along the edges of the river that rumbled through the canyons. It reminds Vulpes vaguely of the pictures he sometimes found in pre-war books, when he had the luxury of smuggling them back into the Fort. Pictures of the way things looked before the war- great stretches of land with burgeoning trees and lush grass. 

Books were strictly contraband at the Fort, and he would often have to destroy them after he finished perusing them in order to thoroughly eliminate any evidence of his duplicity. The most inconspicuous solution, he had found, was to burn them in small campfires. But Vulpes always felt a strange sadness at watching the paper pictures darken and smolder, the edges curling in on themselves and blackening to ash. 

But seeing such imagery now, tangible and real, laid out before him in an almost impossible splendor that seemed to span as far as his craning neck could see... it caused Vulpes to feel a strange sadness, like a twisting knot at the base of his throat. It felt like familiarity, and loneliness. Like returning to a home he had never once lived in.

He carefully crawls backwards, moving his body away from the edge of the mountain. There is a small pile of boulders nearby and he takes cover behind them, turning his back to the canyon's edge and watching along the pathway for any signs of life. 

In the distance, he can hear the sound of a giant molerat snuffling and wheezing as it ambles along. He thinks he hears someone move behind him, but when he turns there is no one there.

Something catches Vulpes' eye, in the corner of his vision, and he looks up sharply. A short distance away, further down the path, he can see the yawning mouth of a cave. A thin, wispy trail of grey smoke curls from somewhere near the base, and Vulpes recognizes it as the smoke of a campfire. 

He stands and moves quietly, soundlessly, along the pathway and towards the cave. 

A campfire implied people. 

And people implied information.

Information as to where, exactly, Vulpes Inculta could find the man he had been instructed to seek out.

He really hoped it wasn't more tribals. While he did find the indigenous people of Zion somewhat fascinating in their isolation, the language barrier had rendered them all but useless to the Frumentarius. 

But Vulpes did appreciate the modicum bits of information that they had unknowingly provided, which he could surely pass on to Caesar. Such as the fact that most tribals appeared to don armor which offered little protection to their vital areas... like the larynx, or the solar plexus. And that the weapons they wielded- their knives and spears and strange curved clubs covered in feathers and bullet casings- tended to be much, much slower than his ripper.

Vulpes smirked to himself, remembering how easily they had been cleaved. Yes. Caesar would most assuredly delight in _that_ information.

\--

There is silence about Dead Horse Camp, a highly irregular occurrence. The usual incomprehensible murmur of voice and activity and playful sparring that buzzes through the campsite is abruptly and inexplicably silenced. 

Joshua Graham can sense the tension almost palpably, even from within the cave- he can smell it in the air like a dog smells fear. And were he a dog, his hackles would rise. 

He closes the book in his hands- his tattered, worn copy of the Scripture- and places it to the side. In front of him, the campfire he had lit with intentions to cook over crackled noisily. He looks to the cave's entrance. 

As though on cue, in stumbles Follows-Chalk. His face is pale and alarmed, and his eyes are wide and frightened. 

"Joshua! I, there is, I saw, there is a- there is a man!"

Joshua listens silently, giving Follows-Chalk the opportunity to collect himself. 

After a moment, he does. "There is a strange man. Outside. Coming up the way. I saw him, when I was scouting."

Joshua's eyes narrow. "A strange man?"

Follows-Chalk nods emphatically. "Yes! He has strange clothing. It is.... red, and heavy. It reflects the sun. And he has a...dog head. On his head."

Joshua pulls out the pistol holstered at his side, holding it against his hip, and Follows-Chalk visibly stiffens at the sudden action.

Joshua does not mean to frighten him, but the gravity of the situation has to be emphasized. The scout had clearly spotted someone in legion armor. And that could mean nothing good.

"Listen to me very carefully," Joshua hisses, speaking quickly. "I need you to gather everyone into the cave. Quietly, and with haste. We need to make sure everyone is-"

He's interrupted by a noise from just outside the cave- the sound of footsteps, walking purposefully inside.

Follows-Chalk moves away quickly, assuming a defensive stance at Joshua's side. Joshua swallows and clenches his fingers against the metal trigger of his pistol, raising it and pointing at the cave's entrance. He half-steps in front of Follows-Chalk, partially shielding the other man's body with his own. 

No words are exchanged, but both men reach a sudden and unspoken agreement- this confrontation was not likely to be peaceful.

\--

Vulpes is aware of the curious gazes the tribals give him as he approaches. They stare at him with slack jaws and wide eyes, not unlike Brahmin. 

They are human cattle, and Vulpes has no time for them.

The large cave is tucked into the mountainside, its mouth illuminated by the flickering glow of several lit torches propped on stakes in the ground. Vulpes approaches a woman standing close to the entrance, and she regards him warily. Her head is shaved and she's nearly naked in her outfit, as most tribals are. Colorful tattoos of geometric shapes and patterns stamp up and down her exposed limbs. Vulpes estimates that such abnormalities would lower her value significantly as a slave, were she sold into the Legion. 

"You!" She addresses him, holding up her hands, palms out and fingers spread wide in a universal 'stop' gesture. "You are _owslandr_ , you cannot enter. First you must speak."

Vulpes raises an eyebrow. He briefly entertains the idea of sawing through the impertinent woman's stomach, but he knows that would be unwise. She is the first to display any sort of English-speaking ability. 

"Speak?" He asks.

The woman nods her head emphatically, lowering her hands and plucking nervously at her heavy necklace of what appeared to be animal teeth strung through a cord. "You speak. You speak to Joshua Graham. He tell you."

Vulpes feels his stomach flip unexpectedly at the name. 

"Joshua Graham," he repeats, keeping his voice steady lest it betray his excitement. "Do you know where he is? Take me to him, immediately."

The woman is suddenly hesitant. She bites her lip and glances to the cave's entrance, then back at Vulpes. A conflicted look plays across her features. 

Vulpes picks up on it immediately. 

"Joshua Graham is in the cave, isn't he?" He pitches his voice low, gentle, slipping effortlessly into his Mr. Fox persona. He's played this game many times before.

It is amazing, the things people tell Vulpes, when they start to believe that he is on their side.

The woman nods her head slowly, shyly. 

"But you're not supposed to let strangers into the cave, are you?" Vulpes steps forward, closer to the woman, assuming a conspiratorial tone. As if they were scheming to solve a mutual problem. "I must speak to Joshua Graham, but I cannot go to him. I wonder how I will speak to him, then?"

The woman begins plucking at her necklace again, and Vulpes starts to find it irritating. 

"...you go," she finally decides, and although her orders are shaky, her tone is firm. "You go inside. You find Joshua Graham. But you _will_ show him respect."

Vulpes bites back a smiles as the woman steps aside.

"Of course," he answers, fingering the ripper strapped to his side, its razor-sharp teeth still stained with blood and bits of gore. "Of course I will show him respect."

And Vulpes enters the cave.

\--

"Who is there?" Joshua calls out, watching down his pistol's sight as the shadowed figure approaches.

It is a man- younger, Joshua estimates by his frame, but it is difficult to tell with most of his face obscured by dark glasses and a vexillarius helmet. Most assuredly legion, and by the look of his armor Joshua pegs him as a Frumentarius. He knows Caesar is not interested in scouting out Zion. The only reason he would send a spy this far was to have Joshua killed. 

It is impossible to tell where exactly the man's gaze falls as he stands before Joshua, shielded by his glasses, but his lips quirk into an infuriatingly smug smile. 

"I am Vulpes Inculta," the man identifies himself. "I am the leader of Caesar's Frumentarii, and you... you already have your weapon drawn."

Joshua tilts his head, pistol still pointed directly at Vulpes. 

Vulpes makes no move to draw his own. "Is it possible that _I_ frighten the Burned Man?"

Behind him, Joshua hears Follows-Chalk swallow audibly, and a surge of anger courses through him. His eyes narrow into mere slits above his bandages.

"Do not be so presumptuous, Legionary," he spits, purposefully ignoring Vulpes' self-proclaimed title. "You are not the first man Caesar has sent here, and you will not be the last. Are you unaware..." Joshua pulls back the slide of his gun, readying the chamber to fire. "...or simply unwise?"

Vulpes finally pulls out his ripper and it hums to life with a mechanical roar. 

"Caesar may have sent many," he gloats, "but he has never sent me."

And with that Vulpes lunges, thrusting his ripper forward in a powerful arc. Joshua anticipates it and dodges, ducking down and ramming a shoulder into Vulpes' stomach, sending them both tumbling to the ground. 

When he had been the Malpais Legate, Joshua had trained more than enough legionaries in the art of close combat. He was all too familiar with their fighting style.

Vulpes lets out a huff of breath as he's shoved to the ground, the Burned Man sprawled atop him. Joshua is taller than he had anticipated, but they are matched in size. However, when Joshua pins him to the ground- knees locked on either side of Vulpes' chest and a strong grip pinning down the wrist holding his ripper- Vulpes realizes that he had erroneously underestimated Joshua's physical strength. 

"Go," Joshua growls, and for a moment Vulpes is confused as to what the other man expects him to do when he is pinned to the ground. Then he realizes that Joshua is not speaking to him, but to the third man in the cave- a nervous looking tribal who, up until that point, had been doing little more than standing anxiously above them with his war club raised ridiculously, as if he had no idea where to swing.

At Joshua's command the man spins on his heel and sprints to the cave's exit with impressive speed. Vulpes cannot help but laugh as he thrashes to free himself from Joshua's grip. 

"For all their talk of respecting you," he pants, arms straining as he fights to raise up his ripper, "they are certainly quick to leave you to your death."

Vulpes feels Joshua wrestle the ripper out of his fingers, and he seethes as it is pulled away. Joshua tosses it haphazardly aside and it whirs noisily as it clatters to a stop a few feet away. The bladed teeth grind loudly against the cave's stone flooring.

Joshua releases Vulpes' hand and presses the cold muzzle of his gun just under Vulpes' jaw. 

"He is quick to leave," Joshua corrects, "because he knows that I will not die. Not by your hand."

Vulpes stops struggling and lays still, craning his neck away from the gun's barrel. He estimates that there is a high possibility Joshua will simply shoot him if he tries to snatch his gun away. He is ashamed to have been disarmed so easily.

He peers up into Joshua's face, into the dark manic eyes and tattered strips of bandages that undulated slightly with each inhale and exhale. It suddenly occurs to him that this is the Burned Man holding him down. The man who used to be one of Caesar's cruelest followers. The man whose very name aroused superstitious terror. 

He is the only man that Caesar is afraid of- who had been covered in pitch and set aflame. Who had burned for days. And who rose up and walked away, not unlike the living dead. He defied the gods themselves and rejected death.

And now, he was going to kill Vulpes.

\--

Joshua watched as Vulpes lay limp beneath him, like a trapped and frightened animal. Despite all the man's earlier bravado, he still feared death- still fell pliant beneath the press of a gun.   
It thrilled Joshua, the power. He was no stranger to killing. Between Caesar's occasional "messengers" and the savage White Legs that had followed him to Zion, he had plenty of opportunities to take another's life. 

But... it was not like this. Not so close, and so utterly dominating. This man, this Vulpes Inculta- he had been so righteous. He even possessed the gall to insinuate that Joshua was scared by his presence, though they had never met before. And he had been so proud of his rank, completely confident in his ability. Confident in Caesar's opinion. To strip that away, to overpower so easily- it thrilled Joshua somewhere deep and dark inside of himself. He didn't want it to end. Not yet. 

Perhaps this one could be saved.

Joshua stands, keeping his pistol trained on Vulpes. He walks backwards, reaching down to retrieve the other man's ripper and tucking it into his own belt. He did not want to risk Vulpes running to make a grab for it. 

Vulpes raises himself to his feet and stands. Joshua is back over him quickly, holding his gun to Vulpes' temple. 

"Do not move again," he growls. "Not another muscle."

Vulpes tilts his chin out defiantly, but his expression is unreadable behind his glasses.

"If you intend to shoot me," Vulpes says. "I suggest you do it quickly."

Joshua cannot help but chuckle at the man's audacity. "Even as prey, you incense the predator. I can see why Caesar favors you. Now, remove your helmet."

A muscle in Vulpes' jaw twitches at the order, but Joshua guesses that the man is not stupid. He's being offered an out, and a possible second chance at escape.

Joshua knows that the chance is irresistible- unless death is the only option for a legionary, dying is considered a failure. And Joshua would wager that Vulpes is not the type to accept failure.

Vulpes will think that he is just playing the game, so Joshua intends to fully stack the odds in his own favor. 

"Your helmet," he repeats.

Thin, slender fingers- more delicate looking that Joshua would have expected, given the other man's strength- reach up and unbuckled the fastening on his helmet. They grasp around the dog-head, lifting and removing it...and Joshua nearly drops his gun in shock.

He is looking at himself. Well, no, not quite himself. Vulpes is more angular about the face than he was, before his own face was charred and melted away. The other man's nose is a bit more sloped, and his lips are a bit more full, but the similarities are there, and they are glaring. Same pallid skin that refused to darken even under the Mojave's unrelenting sun. Same short, dark hair. Same determinedly set jaw. Same dark eyes, a different color superficially- Joshua's own eyes were blue, while Vulpes' were so brown they neared black- but glimmering with the same cruelty that Joshua knows will never fully go away. 

"You are incredibly young," Joshua comments as Vulpes drops his helmet to the ground. Vulpes smirks and shrugs, and though Joshua does not show it, he is thoroughly unnerved by the man's familiar face. 

Caesar, it would appear, had a certain type.

"Everything I am, I have rightfully earned," Vulpes says, surprisingly collected for a man staring down a gun. He almost sounds bored. "Caesar considers me remarkable."

"Are you attempting to impress me?" Joshua's arm begins to ache from being held extended for so long, and he chances lowering his weapon to his side.

The torchlight plays shadows about Vulpes' face, and he looks down to the side. "Why would I attempt that? You abandoned the Legion."

"And you consider that a failure on my part?" Joshua rumbles angrily. Something about having a man in legion armor disrespecting him so openly is irksome. Irritation and pride flare in his chest as he unconsciously remembers how he had felt as a Legate when his subordinates stepped out of line. It made his heart pound. "Remove your armor."

Vulpes looks up sharply. "I beg your pardon?"

Joshua pauses. He flips the gun in his hand, holding it tightly by the barrel. He raises the gun, grip facing forward, and strikes Vulpes across the face with it. 

"You will beg for more than my pardon if you do not mind yourself."

Vulpes' head jerks to the side from the blow as the gun cracks across his face, and he bends forward to spit at Joshua's feet. 

Even by torchlight, Joshua can see that the saliva is tinged red. Vulpes must have bitten his tongue. Perhaps to keep from crying out.

When Vulpes straightens again there is blood dripping from his nose in twin rivulets. Joshua thinks it is probably broken. 

"I don't know what you were expecting to find here in Zion, but your very presence is an affront to God." Joshua's voice rises with each word, increasing in ferocity. "Did you expect to find the husk of a man, broken and hiding? Did you forget who I was? Who I am? What I have _done_?"

For the first time since their encounter, Joshua sees something like fear flicker in Vulpes' eyes, wide and horrified, and it appeases him. He lowers his voice. 

"You do not strike me as an unintelligent man, Vulpes Inculta. But you are blind. You are as a lamb to the slaughter, and Caesar is holding the knife."

The blood from Vulpes' swollen nose drips down his chin and on to the cave floor, making a barely audible patter in the dead silence. He stares at Joshua, neither willing to break eye contact.

Finally, Joshua turns away. He holds his gun correctly and again points it at Vulpes' head. "Remove your armor, I will not tell you again," he demands. "I wish to be sure that you are not concealing any weapons."

It is a poor excuse, and they both know it. Vulpes smiles humorlessly as he begins to shuck his bulky red armor. "I assure you," he answers sarcastically, and his broken nose gives his voice a nasal quality. "If I had any concealed weapons, I would have already-"

"Your assurances," Joshua interrupts, "mean nothing to me." 

Vulpes has to bend awkwardly to remove his armor completely, pulling away the solid chestplate and unwinding the leather straps around his arms. He pulls the garments up and over his head, spreading his legs to maintain balance. 

The movement causes Vulpes' cock to press against the front of his underwear, clearly outlined beneath the material. Joshua feels the same thrum of heat and power that had spread through his veins when they had earlier fought. When he had held Vulpes down between his knees, wrestling away the other man's ripper. When he held a gun to his chin and almost pulled the trigger.

It was a strange feeling. Somewhere between the thrill of killing a man and the thrill of taking a woman. 

It felt like gouging into a part of himself that had long healed over. 

And, like picking a scab, Joshua wanted to open the wound. He wanted to _bleed_.

"Your undergarments," Joshua breathes. "Remove them as well."

Stripped and vulnerable, Vulpes sneers with a mixture of disgust and fear. His broken nose, caked with clotting blood, seemed scandalous to Joshua. The other man's bloodied face was somehow both grotesque and unbearably alluring, dark and shadowed by the cave's ever-flickering torchlight.

"You think you're just biding your time," Joshua says. "Placating me and waiting for the appropriate moment to strike. Even now, with nothing, you still think there is a chance. To escape. To kill me. To please Caesar."

Vulpes shivers. The blazing campfire behind them cracks and pops. 

"There is no chance," Joshua continues, trailing the muzzle of his pistol along Vulpes' jaw. Teasing. 

"Now, move closer," he instructs. "To the fire." He wants to get a good look at Vulpes Inculta.

Vulpes casts a final, mournful look at his pile of armor on the floor, piled in a heap about his feet, before shuffling closer to the campfire.

Joshua hovers over him as they move together, spurring Vulpes forward with the blunt press of his pistol at the other man's neck. He can feel the heat from Vulpes' body even through his bandages.

Joshua wonders if the man is silently plotting, or merely silent.

"Hmm. Look at your scars," Joshua comments when they are close enough that the campfire illuminates them properly. 

Vulpes' body is marred with scars- most are battle born, like the pock marked bullet wound puckered on his shoulder, or the fleshy pink tissue of what had been a gash at his side. But some appeared to be disciplinary, like the horizontal whip marks striping down his back and thighs.

Joshua remembers administering such punishments himself- remembers the crack of leather as he would rain blow after blow on to the backs of deserving legionaries, all the while being watched by a circle of their fellow soldiers. 

Because it hadn't just been about punishment. It had been about shame. About raw, base humiliation for their failures.

"I see you were punished frequently." 

Joshua wonders if Vulpes had ever been shamed in such a way, and the thought excites him.

Vulpes looks at the fire, not Joshua, as he speaks. "When I fail Caesar, I pay penance accordingly." He looks up at Joshua and his lips are curled in a grin. "I would imagine that is a concept you are exceedingly familiar with, considering your shameful display at Hoover Dam- aurgh!"

Vulpes groans in pain as Joshua reaches out and twists his arm backwards, putting pressure on the socket. There is a shuffle as Joshua wrestles Vulpes to the ground. He knows that he if pushes a little but more, puts just the slightest bit more pressure, he could dislocate it with ease. He isn't sure if he wants to, yet.

"You think that you understand even a fraction of the agony Caesar subjected me to?" Joshua growls. He feels Vulpes give beneath him, allowing himself to be lowered to the ground with barely a struggle when Joshua bears down on his twisted arm. 

Like a submissive animal showing its underbelly. 

Agitation and disgust prickled at the back of his neck. Joshua releases Vulpes' arm and shoves him to the ground. Vulpes lands on his hands and knees, facing away from Joshua.

"Remove your undergarments, now," Joshua says, delivering a firm kick to Vulpes' hip and knocking him to his side. "I am tired of repeating myself to you."

He watches for a moment as the man on the ground rights himself, rising to his knees, and when he is satisfied that Vulpes is indeed removing his underwear- hooking shaky thumbs into the waistband and pulling them down slowly- he begins to walk backwards. Carefully. Always facing Vulpes. 

After several feet, Joshua reaches his target- a small chest tucked away in the corner of the cave. He reaches down and clicks open the lock, looking frequently back to Vulpes' kneeling form to make sure he does not try to stand or run. Joshua would shoot him the moment he tried anything- and he was sure that they both knew it.

Vulpes' ripper is detached from Joshua's belt and dropped into the chest with a clatter. The chest is meant to store his various workbench tools, or metal scraps and parts, but Joshua wants to be sure that Vulpes' weapon is totally inaccessible to the man, stashed safely away in storage. 

It is always better to be overly cautious, in matters such as these.

Joshua regards the contents of the chest and, after a moment's pause, retrieves a small cannister of liquid. He closes the chest, locks it, and walks back to Vulpes.

Vulpes defensively crosses his arms, and the action only serves to accentuate the purple and yellow bruises marring his shoulder where Joshua pulled it. Combined with the nicks and scratches of their earlier scuffle, and the broken, bloodied nose... the lips tinged red from being wetted with a tongue bitten raw... it is nearly poetic.

Joshua places the canister on the floor and drinks in Vulpes' naked, battered form. 

He wants to ask Vulpes if he is afraid. 

If he feels helpless.

"Why did you join the legion?" He asks instead. "Was it a choice?"

Vulpes' cheeks and neck are flushed pink, but his arms remain firmly across his chest. He makes no modest move to cover himself. 

"It was not," he answers. "But I have no regrets."

Joshua scoffs derisively. "I should have expected as much from you." He presses a hand down on Vulpes' injured shoulder, forcing him back to the ground. The wince of pain that flitters across his features is gratifying. 

Even through the bandages on his fingers, Joshua can feel the heat of Vulpes' skin against the palm of his hand. It is warm and soothing. Like the heat of a fire.

"Did Caesar order your family killed?"

Vulpes says nothing.

Joshua presses down into the blossom of a particularly dark bruise, soothing a painful circle with the pad of his thumb. 

"More than a family," he continues, and his voice is reverent, like a prayer. "A tribe. He slaughtered your tribe at the hands of the legion, perhaps? Or maybe he had them taken as slaves. But it doesn't matter- because he kept _you_ , didn't he? He took away everything you had, and it means nothing to you. You're devoted to a madman."

Joshua feels an angry frustration coiling and squeezing inside of his chest, and he's not sure if its directed at Vulpes or himself. 

He releases Vulpes' shoulder and stands, using the toe of his boot to nudge the other man's legs open wider.

Vulpes' genitals are soft as they hang, exposed, between his spread legs. Joshua wonders why Vulpes is not fighting back. He is not even bound, and yet he still bends easily to Joshua's touches- as easily as he had when there was a gun at his neck.

Joshua is sure that Vulpes could have taken his gun if he wanted to. But he does not even try.

\--

Vulpes feels another shiver deep in his spine and he concentrates on repressing it.

The most humiliating aspect of this whole ordeal was not the fact that he was disarmed so quickly, or stripped so thoroughly- no. It was Joshua Graham's ever present, piercing gaze. Graham had disturbingly blue eyes that seemed to burn him with their intensity as they mapped over every part of his body.

Well. Not every part. But he suspected that would soon change. A legionary was no stranger to raping and pillaging.

"Put your face to the ground," Joshua states plainly, and Vulpes feels the sole of a boot bear down on his neck. He complies and bends, pressing his flushing face to the cold cave floor.

Vulpes isn't sure why he obeys. It feels like a dream, as though he is watching his body act independently of his mind. He was sent here to kill this man. This Malpais Legate. And yet here he was- nude, in a dank cave- face down in front of a fire while the Burned Man himself stood above him and watched.

He longed for his ripper. He desired to bury it into Joshua Graham's neck, and then deep into his own belly. 

He had already failed Caesar, and he desired to spill his guts in retribution. 

But he had been sent here to kill Graham, and every second he stayed alive was a potential opportunity to redeem himself. To turn the tables. To surprise and overtake the Burned Man. 

Vulpes hears Joshua drop to the ground behind him, and he wonders if he will die today.

Joshua's hands are about his waist.

The thought of dying here, in Zion, amongst the cliffs and rivers and strange green trees brings Vulpes an unexpected feeling of peace.

Rough, scarred fingers close around his testicles and the feeling of peace is shattered. The bandages that wrap the Burned Man's hands are coarse and scratchy as they rub against Vulpes' sensitive skin. He cannot help the low keen of pain as Joshua tightens his fist, squeezing.

The stone of the ground is cool against his burning face as he presses his cheek against it, clamping his lips together and trying not to make another sound. Prying fingers move between his legs, fisting his cock and pulling dryly on the shaft. Despite the raw ache, Vulpes feels himself become aroused. He hates himself for it.

He doesn't question Joshua. He doesn't speak at all.

To say anything would be to acknowledge that this is really happening. And that is a reality far too frightening and surreal for Vulpes Inculta to accept at the moment.

Joshua plays his free hand up and down Vulpes' scarred thigh as he continues to pleasure the other man, stroking up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm. He imagines what it might have been like to discipline Vulpes Inculta, in another lifetime. To lash him soundly, in front of his superiors. In front of Caesar.

He can feel Vulpes' member thickening in his hand, filling until the younger man is half-heartedly erect, and Joshua thrills in it. The forced response feels like an accomplishment. 

"You cannot control yourself," Joshua murmurs. "You are weak and your body is wicked. It will betray you. It can be used, and manipulated, by any who desire to take it."

He hears a hitched, choking noise rip from Vulpes' throat. From Joshua's knelt position behind Vulpes he cannot see the other man's face, but he can see the way the muscles in Vulpes's back tense and shift beneath skin covered in whipping scars. They are fastidious and symmetrical, the scars. Fascinating in their horrifying meticulousness. The oldest are raised and white, forever etching valleys and grooves across Vulpes' spine. Joshua trails his free hand from Vulpes' thighs up to his back, splaying his fingers and rubbing the scars with a certain familiarity. Bracing himself against the other man's back as he continues to touch him.

" _But by the grace of God_ ," Joshua recites, " _I am what I am, and His grace to me was not without effect_. I doubt you are familiar with the good book, Vulpes Inculta. But I believe these words to be the truest I've ever known." 

Vulpes is heavy and warm and hard in his hand, and Joshua cannot help himself from slowing his strokes to a languid, indulgent pace. He thinks he feels Vulpes' hips twitch, pressing subtly into his fist, but it might have been his imagination.

"It was no coincidence that my fall from grace came at the hands of fire. Hell's fire. God saved me so that others can learn from my mistakes. So that I can save them from making the choices I made-"

His pumping unexpectedly quickens, and takes a moment for Joshua to realize that it is due to his fist being slicked by Vulpes' fluids. A thick dribble of clear precum pulsed from Vulpes' member, easing Joshua's grip and wetting his bandages. 

"- I exist to right what I have once wronged." Joshua's voice is low and husky. Dangerous. He bears down on the other man, hunching over his bent body. "Let me right you, Vulpes Inculta. Let Zion save you."

Vulpes tenses beneath Joshua's hands- one braced on his back, the other reaching around his waist, holding his cock, holding him tightly against his body- and Joshua feels the first hot pulse of climax against his fingers.

"I can't," Joshua hears Vulpes whisper. "I can't..."

But he does. Naked, bleeding, bruised and broken, he does.

\--

Joshua removes his hands instantly, watching as Vulpes collapses to his side, breath coming in harsh pants. Clotted blood coats his mouth and jaw where his nose had dripped, and his bruised shoulder is turning yellow. And his eyes are squeezed shut.

Joshua wipes his hand on Vulpes' thigh, leaving a glistening smear on his skin. He knows he will have to change his bandages soon. They are soiled now.

He stands and retrieves the canister he brought out earlier. It is faded and unlabeled, and he unscrews the cap as he stands over Vulpes' huddled body. 

"When the Lord was made flesh, he was nailed to a cross and crucified for our sins."

Vulpes does not look. Does not open his eyes.

"He was crowned with thorns and nailed to a cross, adorned with four letters: INRI." 

Joshua tips the canister over Vulpes and begins drizzling the liquid over Vulpes' body. 

Vulpes finally looks up, confusion and alarm written plainly across his features. 

Joshua appreciates the dramatic change from Vulpes' initial bravado. How gratifying, to see a once-proud man so shattered. 

He truly had missed this.

"Do you speak Latin, Vulpes? Of course you do. The letters were shorthand, proclaiming him _Iesus Nazarenus and _Rex Ludaeorum_ \- king of the Jews. But later, there emerged a second meaning: _Igne Natura Renovatur Integra._ "_

_The canister is empty, and Joshua drops it to the floor. "Do you know what that phrase means, Vulpes?"_

_Vulpes is unsure of what, exactly, Graham is pouring on his body and is unsure if he can even care. His nerves are still too raw and frazzled by what had transpired. Between his orgasm and Graham's nonsensical preaching, Vulpes' mind feels like hot white static. His body is shaking._

_The liquid he's drenched in feels oily, and the strong smell makes his head spin. It is familiar, but he cannot place it._

_Then Joshua speaks- _igne natura_ \- and Vulpes thinks: fire, it's about fire, it means something about the purity of flame... about how it cleans, it brings rebirth, it-_

_And then, suddenly, Vulpes understands._

_He's being covered in lighter fluid._

__Igne_. _

_Joshua Graham is going to set him on fire._

_He watches in shock as Graham tosses the now-empty canister aside and walks over to the campfire._

_" _Through fire_ ," Joshua reaffirms as he plucks a burning stick from the kindling, apparently unbothered by the way the orange flames lick at his blackened fingertips where the bandages did not reach, " _the purity of nature is restored_. It is an...aphorism, one that I have grown rather fond of."_

_The fire crackles ominously in the silent cave. Vulpes thinks it will be the sound of his death._

_The last thing he hears will be the consuming crackle of fire igniting across his skin. And the last thing he sees will be the unnerving, empty face of the Burned Man, staring down at him- nothing more than swathing of dirty wrappings and cold, blue eyes, watching him as he dies._

_Joshua approaches with the burning twig extended, and Vulpes thinks he should run. He thinks that he should fight, struggle, kick, bite- do anything other than lie and stare, frozen and unmoving._

_Even books moved, he thought, the books he secretly burned at the Fort. Their pages would twist and crinkle in the flames, their cardboard spines shrinking and folding as they succumb to ash and smoke._

_Vulpes watches the flame draw closer and closer, and he illogically wonders if he will turn to smoke. If his body will burn and curl. He hopes that it does, that the wind will sweep him up and scatter his ashes through this place, this Zion, gusting him through its endless mountains._

_Maybe he has failed Caesar. Maybe there is no opportunity for redemption._

_He closes his eyes, and waits to be ignited._

_Joshua watches as Vulpes' eyelids flutter shut and just before the tiny flame can kiss the man's skin, Joshua drops the twig to the ground and quickly stomps it out, grinding it into the ground with his heel._

_Vulpes starts at the sound, eyes shooting open, and Joshua regards him coldly._

_"I could never do that, Vulpes Inculta." He sounds raspy, as though he had been screaming, but his voice is barely above a whisper. "Never. Not to you, or to any other man. But Caesar can. And he has."_

_After stomping out the flaming twig, Joshua turns away from Vulpes, and Vulpes realizes that this is the first time the Burned Man had displayed his back. It is the first time he isn't watching Vulpes with that unnerving intensity._

_Joshua stares into the campfire. Vulpes stares at him._

_"There is a godless flame that burns in your heart, Vulpes Inculta," Joshua says. "I know. I have been burned by it myself. The path to redemption is sown in tears, and only from our sorrow can we reap forgiveness. I think that you have felt Zion- I can see it in you."_

_"Caesar will order me crucified," Vulpes says, and he is ashamed of the tremble in his voice. "If I cannot kill you, then you must kill me."_

_"... Are you going to kill me, Vulpes?"_

_The question hangs heavily in the air, and Vulpes can feel the weight of it in his chest._

_"No," he answers softly. He can't. Not now. Not anymore._

_Vulpes pulls himself to a sitting position and holds his knees to his chest. His skin is still slick with lighter fluid, and the chemical fumes makes his eyes water._

_Or maybe it wasn't the fumes._

_"Stay," Joshua says suddenly. "Stay in Zion. Caesar will most assuredly assume you are dead. You would be safe here."_

_"How can you be sure I won't betray you?" Vulpes asks, resting his chin on his knees._

_He does not miss the way Joshua's fingers find the holster strapped to his side._

_"We are all God's children," Joshua says solemnly. "And it is better to trust in the Lord than to put our confidence in man."_

_Vulpes mulls it over. Trying to understand. "You think the gods will protect you from me?"_

_"No," Joshua answers, kicking his discarded twig back into the campfire. It snaps, and pops. "I trust that God will guide and keep you here. As for my _protection_... that is what my gun is for."_

_Vulpes thinks. Considers._

_His orders had been explicit, but succinct._

_Kill him._

_Track him to his hiding place, draw him out, and kill him._

_It didn't matter how, but it had to be done._

_Caesar had told Vulpes to forget what he'd heard- said that it was all lies, superstition. That Joshua Graham was nothing more than a broken man, hiding like a wounded animal, and it was up to Vulpes to euthanize him once and for all._

_But his name was forbidden in the Fort. To say his name was to be sentenced to death. Caesar wanted him erased, not just from the world, but from history itself. Blotted out, like a mistake._

_But despite it, Vulpes still heard tales. Tales of a man taller than the trees, and stronger than a deathclaw. A man who killed indiscriminately, and who could not be killed- who laughed in the face of death and defied the gods with his mortality. A man who was maybe even a god himself, made flesh and sent from the heavens to betray the son of Mars. To punish mankind. To torture and brutalize them._

_And now the legend stood before Vulpes, offering him a second chance...at the cost of betraying everything he had ever known. Just as he had once been betrayed._

_Vulpes remembers the thought he had when first entering Zion: it was like returning to a home he never once lived in._

_He supposed that now was as good a time as any to come home._

**Author's Note:**

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